Run, Posy, Run
by Desirae Ann
Summary: Posy Thisltewood from District 8 falls for Colbee Scabblerod during the training for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. What will happen when these new found lovers take a stab at freedom and hit the mark?


**A/N: Hello there, beautiful reader. Thank you for reading this! I had a dream the other night and this story is based on that. I hope you like it! Its a work in progress, so stay tuned. Don't forget to favorite it if you like it, then you can find out the fate of these two starcrossed lovers. It may just suprise you :)**

Run, Posy, Run

"When you got home, what did they say?" Eifel asked. Posy noticed that when she spoke, Eifel had a strange way of blinking. The number of blinks increases whenever the woman's mouth opened and sound came out.

"I told them I was going to win, of course."

"Now, District 8 is by no means a Career District, am I right?" She gave an obnoxious laugh that told the audience to follow suit. "Are you at all worried about going up against the other Tributes, namely the Careers?" Eifel was up on her District lingo. Usually, a Capitol resident didn't use such slang.

"I'm not worried at all. When people hear I came from District 8, they automatically think all I have done my whole life is sew and play with a needle and thread. What they don't know is I worked in the factory. Even thought my Father was the mayor, I still needed to work. My parents wanted to instill good values in me. So they made me work for my spending money. And I can honestly say that since the day I turned 12, I have purchased every dress, every sweet, every pair of extra shoes, and every luxury for myself. If it wasn't required in my house, I needed to buy it. Now, working in the factory builds muscle. Pushing carts, lifting boxes, throwing spindles of thread the size of a small dog around, it's backbreaking. But it builds things. Muscle, agility, speed, strength, endurance, all things required to win the Games. So, no, I am not a Career. I have never been in a mock battle or held a weapon before, but those aren't too hard to learn. It's an even Game, in my opinion." Posy couldn't believe something so smug had come out of her mouth.

"So, you mentioned your Father was the mayor. Did the people of your District appreciate that you got reaped?" Eifel leaned forward in her seat.

"Undoubtedly. It proved that the Games aren't rigged. Everyone has the same chances."

"Well there you have it, Panem! Miss Posy Thistlewood, thank you for the interview. I am sure you have made many fans tonight! We all look forward to seeing what you bring into the Arena." Eifel smiled with her pink lipstick.

"Thank you for having me, Eifel." Posy stood and adjusted her skirt. Her dress was a dark red ball gown. The bodice was made of a skin colored material with swirls of red ripping through it. It was long sleeved and tight until the waist. There was a section about five inches thick which brought the swirling bodice and poof of a skirt together. Then it flared out in all its red glory. If it wasn't for the skin colored material, which Posy requested, the dress would have been next to impossible to wear. There was no rhyme or reason to the red swirls. They jutted up from the skirt, each about three inches thick, and swirled here and there. Posy had never felt so beautiful.

She took her seat among the other tributes as her partner, Grisly, went up for his interview. She watched his 'highlight reel' which consisted of footage from the Reaping, the Opening Ceremonies, and training. In the Reaping shots, Posy was right next to him. It was hard to see herself that way; hair pulled back in a tight pony, no makeup, and a simple silk dress her mother had sewn. The girl up there looked nothing like the girl who had just finished her interview. She also looked nothing like the Posy from the tribute parade during the Opening Ceremonies. There was Grisly and Posy in their chariot, waving. Their district was known for textiles, in other words fabrics. Their costumes, which needed to represent their district, were patch work clothes; different fabrics sown together. Posy's dress was just barely a dress; it didn't even come down to her mid-thigh. It had straps holding it up on her shoulders, but also extremely billowy sleeves that started in between her shoulders and elbows, and ended at her wrists. Her hair had been formed into a large puff of curly mess. She personally disliked that hairstyle, but it seemed to match the patch dress. Grisly had a suit that was patch style. It made him look like a clown, in ways. But his strong jaw and handsome sunken in eyes forced you to see beyond the clownish suit. He looked as strong as he was. Wide shoulders and muscles for days, Grisly fit in well with the tributes. Posy watched his interview. They had whitened his teeth, obviously. His smile was striking; it could literally stop you in your tracks. Even though she found him extremely attractive, Posy didn't want to be with Grisly. This year, a lot of tributes played the 'we are so in love, how will we kill one another' angle. But Posy saw how they acted off camera, and no one was in love with any one. And at that time, Posy wasn't really looking for a steady relationship. She was a little too busy fighting for her life.

The rest of the interviews went very slowly. Listening to twenty four kids tell the same story over and over again was becoming sickening. But when the last of the interviews ended, they all stood for the National Anthem of Panem. Posy sung the words; sure the cameras would catch it. The better she looked to the sponsors, the better her chances of winning were.

"How was that?" Grisly asked when they were back at the training center.

"I think you did good. Confident, but not cocky. That's the angle you want to play." She smiled at him.

"Thanks, I rehearsed in my head all day. I nearly drove myself insane." He laughed a little.

"So, will we be attending the party tonight?"

"Only if you want to."

"I think we should! Our last chance to have fun. From here on in its training and then the games. Maybe this will let us cut loose one last time." Posy winked at him.

"Well, in that case, I'll go change into something more comfortable." He smiled awkwardly at Posy and they went their separate ways. Posy shuffled through the clothes in her closet. She finally settled on a chiffon party dress. It was cream colored and had sleeves like a t-shirt. She was very comfortable in it. She put on her necklace; the only thing she was allowed to take from home. It was a plain silver chain with a gold heart pendant. There was a spindle engraved on the heart and a 8 on the back of it. It was the only piece of home Posy had now. She smiled at herself in the mirror. She left her hair up in the twists of elegant braids around her head and she left her makeup the way it was. No use in wrecking it all.

Grisly was already outside in their private lounge when she finished. He had on a plain pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. Posy had known him fairly well back home, and she knew he was a rather plain guy to begin with. They made small talk on their way to the party. Once they reached the main common room, they knew they were in the right place. The lights were low, there was music playing, and the smell of sweet tainted drinks filled the room. Just the scent of them was intoxicating. Posy and Grisly broke away from one another and made small talk with other Tributes. Posy spoke with Ian, a boy from District 12. He was a little shorter than Grisly and a little thinner. Posy could tell he had worked in the mines back home. They spoke about their homes for a while, but then Posy was distracted. Just then, the Tributes from District 9 walked in the room. Posy hardly noticed the girl, but she saw the boy all to clearly. He was tall with wide shoulders, but not to muscular. He wore a tight cream long sleeved cotton shirt. She could see his sculpted body through the shirt. He had on ripped jeans and plain shoes. Posy noticed his smile and striking blue eyes. Then she took note of his short yet shaggy hair and stubble on his face. He was the bad boy of the games.

"Please excuse me, Ian." She smiled at him as sweetly as she could. She felt bad for leaving him, but the girl from District 3 quickly struck up a conversation with him. Her steps were a little faster than normal as she approached him. The best way to start things, in her opinion, was to bump into him. She pretended to be saying goodbye to someone, and then bumped into his shoulder. What she didn't know was such an action would cause him to spill his drink all over her dress.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He apologized and tried to wipe off her dress with his sleeve.

"Don't worry about it." She tried to nonchalantly brush it off.

"That's going to stain." He looked almost sick.

"It's really no big deal. I wouldn't have ever worn it again otherwise." She smiled up at him and made eye contact for the first time. For both of them, it was an instant connection. It was like the world stood still.

"I'm Colbee. Colbee Scabblerod." His smile seemed to light up his sparkling blue eyes.

"I'm Posy Thistlewood. Nice to meet you." She smiled, and he noticed her golden brown eyes.

"I can walk you back to your room so you can change, if you want." It was a risky move, very crass. He intended to do a little more than just escort her back. Although Colbee had just met Posy, he felt that she would be his last girl. She would be the last girlfriend he would ever have, considering his chances of dying in the arena were great. Maybe they could be the forbidden loves of the game; competitors, dying in one another's arms.

The walk back to the District 8 section of the center wasn't very long. They made small talk, compared home stories, and got to know one another.

"So, tell me something no one else here knows." He smiled down at her. They were already holding hands as they walked.

"When I was nine years old, my dog died. His name was Mops, and I loved him to death. He died when I was at school, poor thing. My parents knew it would break my heart to find him dead, so they went ahead and buried him. Well, you can imagine when I got home and Mops didn't greet me. They told me he had run away, and I was shattered. So, in the middle of the night I decided to go look after him. So here is nine year old me in my nightgown, running around barefoot screaming out for Mops. This one shopkeeper noticed me, and called me inside. I went in and told him my story, so he decided to help me. We went all over, and finally gave up when the sun came up.

When we got back to my house, my parents were livid. They then needed to explain to the shopkeeper that Mops had died. The shopkeeper forgave me and my misunderstanding and left. I never really talked to him again until I left. He came up to me and hugged me, wished me luck. He also told me if he saw Mops, he would take good care of him for me. Of course I knew Mops had died, but it broke my heart. There was this man who had helped me in my darkest time, and he still kept the secret from me. For some odd reason, that really got to me."

"That's a cute story." He smiled down at their hands. "So what does that mean?" He asked, referring to their intertwined fingers.

"I don't know. One last chance at romance before we are dead?"

**Up Next: Chapter 2: The Kiss**


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